


Perdu Dans la Traduction

by BonjourMyLovelies



Category: Tom Hardy - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Language, like not explicit but mentions of things, like you know what's happening alright, sort of naughty stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonjourMyLovelies/pseuds/BonjourMyLovelies
Summary: Tom speaks frenchThat's it.  That's all you need to know.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This was written for a lovely friend who wanted a fic with Tom being nervous/intimidated. Because I love her so, I wanted to personalize it, which means some reader/"you" details are specific.

You sat on the plush duvet of the hotel bed surrounded by papers, textbooks and journals, furiously making notes on a legal pad. Your laptop sat next to you with way too many internet tabs open for one person to possibly need. When you’d received the invitation to participate in a panel discussion with the International Urban Development Association you were shocked but thrilled. It was an amazing opportunity that had the potential to accelerate your career in urban planning. 

The fact that the conference was in Paris didn’t hurt either. Your boyfriend, Tom was excited as well since it coincided with one of his rare off-weeks. While you were expected to be at the event Tuesday through Thursday, he suggested you arrive Sunday evening and stay the entire week, spending your downtime with him.

It sounded perfect when you planned the trip with him and you were looking forward to exploring the beautiful city with your boyfriend of nearly a year. But work was crazy right up until you left for Paris and you barely had time to prepare for the conference. Your panel was tomorrow and you were frantically reviewing everything you could so you’d feel as confident as possible. 

The information you’d be discussing wasn’t new to you by any stretch – you’d been living and breathing the material since you declared a major and knew you wanted to go into urban planning. But the caliber of people at this conference was intimidating and knowing that you’d been selected because your current boss nominated you as a rising star in the field meant there was a lot of pressure to make you both look good.

You felt bad you hadn’t been able to spend much time with Tom since you arrived, having already asked him to reschedule the dinner reservations he’d made for last night. The first two days of the conference were packed full and you felt it best to dine with other attendees, as this was the only chance you’d have to speak with many of them in person. It was obvious Tom was disappointed, but he’d called the restaurant to cancel without complaint.

As soon as your panel was done and the conference closed tomorrow afternoon, you’d promised him you’d be all his and able to focus on spending the rest of the week with him in beautiful Paris.  
\----------

Tom

Wu Tang Clan bumped through the buds in Tom’s ears as he scrolled through his phone, answering random emails and confirming plans for the rest of the week. After you asked him to cancel dinner, he’d gone ahead and cleared everything he’d planned for the days you had your conference, rescheduling for when you were finished. It wasn’t ideal but, to be fair, he should have known better than to set up anything during the conference without checking with you first.

He was so proud of you for getting invited to the conference. Despite your relationship being mostly long distance with very little time actually spent together, he knew from your numerous phone conversations that you worked incredibly hard at your job. It was one of the things he liked most about you – your drive, passion, and diligence with your work. In the past he’d found few women who could live with his own commitment to work. He learned early on that you both had a mutual respect for the other’s desire to excel.

Still, he couldn’t help but wish you had more time to spend with him while you were both in the same place. Tommy glanced over at you from his seat next to the window. He loved the way your brow furrowed and your lips pouted when you were concentrating. A lock of wavy brown hair fell across your face, and your brushed it away quickly, your bright blue eyes flitting back and forth between the journal and notepad as you scribbled notes.

Damn you looked beautiful. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to be patient with you. The first night together in Paris had been incredible but the past two nights, he’d only gotten to cuddle you. And it’s not that he expected intense passion every night - he understood you were stressed - it’s just that the last time he’d really gotten to be with you was over a month and a half ago. Having you so close now but not being able to do anything about it… plus when you spent the evening in those little boy short knickers and one of his t-shirts – there was only so much a man could take.

He pulled his earbuds out and set his phone aside, getting up from his seat and crossing the room to the bed. No man in his right mind could ignore you any longer. Besides, everyone needed a break now and then right?  
\----------

You chewed on your pen as your fingers traced the words on your laptop screen. Somehow you’d missed this newer information in your prior research and you were deep in thought over the newfound case study. Grabbing the pen out of your mouth, you scribbled some notes and pushed your hair behind your ears. You were vaguely aware that Tom had joined you on the bed but you were immersed in your research, concentrating squarely on the information in front of you. He was reclining on his elbow next to you and since his movements weren’t disrupting your books or papers, you ignored him and continued reading, jotting notes every now and then. 

The brush of his fingertips against your bare arm scarcely registered, and you instinctively shrugged him away. He tried again. “Darling,” he murmured, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “Isn’t it time for a break yet?” He stroked your arm and again you shrugged him off. 

“Not now, Tom,” you mumbled, your eyes never leaving the screen. You shifted your body slightly away from him, your train of thought completely focused on finishing your reading.

A moment later you felt his hand drag lightly across your shoulder blades and down your back followed by a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Come on, love,” he tried again, brushing your hair away from your neck and placing another light kiss on your exposed skin. “Just for a few minutes, yeh? Then you can go back to your notes.”

You were so engrossed with your work the subtle tingle that ran down your spine as he whispered against your sensitive skin had the unintended effect of irritating you immensely. You pulled completely away, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Tommy, come on!” you nearly shouted. “I’m right in the middle of this and I’ve got to finish. I told you I’d be busy and stressed until the panel was over, so please just stop!” 

You returned to your task without waiting for his reaction, huffing an exasperated sigh as your mind worked to refocus. He was silent for a moment and then you felt the bed give as he got up and left the room. A few seconds later you heard the main hotel door open and close, leaving you in peace to finish your work.  
\--------------

Tom

Tom padded down the corridor of the hotel, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Your outburst had surprised him a little, it was a bit harsh to be honest. But it made him realize just how stressed and nervous you were. As much as he craved your affections, after such a strong reaction, he knew he had to lay off and do his best to help you feel better about the event tomorrow.

Tugging his blue ball cap low over his face, he kept his head down as he crossed the hotel lobby and headed outside onto the busy Paris street. He could have easily called down to room service to get what he was after, but he figured giving you some space would go a long way. Plus, he could use the walk and some fresh air to distract himself. The scent of fresh crepes wafted from the cart he strode past and the glow of the street lights reflected off the pavement, wet from an earlier rain. Nothing like Paris to help him clear his head.

Although he’d been dating you for almost a year, he still struggled to read you sometimes. Most of your relationship was built over phone calls or texts and emails, with short visits in person here and there when both your schedules allowed. There always seemed to be something new to learn about you, another mystery to solve. It was intriguing and interesting, to say the least, but sometimes he wished he could get you completely figured out the way he did the characters he played. He hoped his read on you this time was correct as he ducked into the shop he’d set out for.  
\--------

You weren’t sure how long Tom was gone, but when you heard the hotel door open and close again, you were nearly done with your work. Just a few more pages to go and you could maybe think about giving Tom some attention. 

You heard the clink of glassware and liquid being poured before he came into the bedroom and handed you one of the hotel’s mugs, steam swirling and dancing from the hot liquid it held. Taking a deep breath in, you found it filled with the most delicious smelling herbal tea - your favorite whenever you were trying to focus on work. You immediately softened toward him, regretting your earlier outburst and feeling terrible for how you treated him.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, watching him as he took off his cap and and set it on the bedside table.

“How’s it coming?” he gestured to your work, looking genuinely interested.

Giving him an apologetic smile, you shrugged. “Almost done I think.” 

He nodded and returned to his seat in the chair across the room, gathering his earbuds again.

“Tommy, I’m really sorry about earlier,” you began, setting your laptop to the side and rearranging a few stacks of papers.

“No need,” he said quickly, shaking his head, eyebrows pulled together in a serious expression. “I shouldn’t have pushed. I know you need to work.” 

You were a little surprised at how easily he brushed it off. You’d been pretty severe and it wasn’t him so much as your anxiety about the next day. “I still shouldn’t have –” you started to say again.

“You’re going to be brilliant, sweetheart.” Tom winked at you as he put his earbuds back in and gestured toward the work on the bed, indicating you should get back to it. He propped his feet on the side table and appeared to be engrossed in his phone again.

\------------  
Tom

The moderator was just finishing up introductions when Tom slipped into the back of the auditorium. He hoped you wouldn’t notice him as he took a seat in a chair in the last row of the audience. It was a large room, with what looked like nearly 250 people in attendance. Now, he truly understood why you were so anxious and wanted to be completely prepared.

Settling back in his chair, he watched you as others spoke about the topics introduced by the moderator. He had a general idea of what your work entailed from things you told him about your job, but he’d never actually seen you in action before. Watching you now, seated on stage next to people who were mostly older and probably more experienced than you just by virtue of their age, he was in awe of your abilities. 

The discussion lasted nearly 90-minutes and while the topics started off fairly straightforward, and he could generally follow it, as the discussion continued, he quickly realized he was out of his depth. He was impressed by how articulate and knowledgeable you were. He’d always known you were intelligent, but seeing you in your element was exciting and a bit intimidating, to be honest.

As the roundtable was ending, he caught your eye and winked at you, giving you a thumbs up. There may have been a smile somewhere behind your eyes, but your expression remained serious and focused and Tom wondered how long it would take for you to unwind and relax, now that the conference was coming to a close. 

“You were pretty awesome today,” Tom said, setting his fork down next to the plate of chocolate torte you were sharing. His tanned skin glowed in the low light of the small restaurant, his eyes looking darker than their natural color. 

“Thank you,” you said, taking another bite of the torte. The decadent dessert was a perfect ending to the incredible meal you’d just enjoyed. “I was so nervous I thought I might pass out before I had to walk on stage,” you admitted.

He shrugged. “You looked like a pro,” he said, running his hands over the back of his head. “Like you’ve been doing it for years. I was - well - I was um, really blown away to be honest.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at his nervous compliments and ducked your head. “Thanks Tommy,” you said quietly, finishing your wine and setting the glass back on the table. 

Tom caught the attention of the waiter. He was still raking his hands through his hair. A tuft of hair stuck up at the top of his head as he dropped his hands to the table and picked up his fork again. You smiled to yourself, imagining how the rest of his hair would look later on that night. Before you could say something suggestive about your plans for the evening, the waiter appeared next to your table.

“Plus de vin s'il vous plaît,” Tommy said to the waiter who nodded and disappeared to bring you more wine. 

You smiled broadly at him, biting your bottom lip. Tom speaking French was one of the many ways he made you want to do things in public you never would have done with anyone else before. 

“Did you enjoy everything, darling?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and rubbing the back of his neck, the outline of his large bicep visible through his white dress shirt. 

“Ask me in French,” you requested, mind wandering to the tattoos that covered his tanned skin beneath that crisp shirt. A light pink dusted Tom’s cheeks and he raised his eyebrows in surprise as you leaned forward. “Please?”

He chuckled and shook his head slightly, grinning as he repeated his question. “Est-ce que ça t'as plu, chérie?” 

Suppressing an actual moan, you nodded, your eyes never leaving his as the waiter returned and added more wine to your glass. “Merci,” you murmured as you lifted the wine glass to your lips and took another sip, staring up at him through your long lashes, a playful grin dancing at your cheeks as you imagined what the rest of the night held.


	2. Chapter 2

You

The walk back to the hotel was short, and you were thankful Tom selected a restaurant so close. Between the wine at dinner and the alleviated stress that came with the end of your conference, you were eager to get back to your room and spend the rest of the night not sleeping. Gripping his hand tightly, you followed him into the hotel suite, ready for him to scoop you up and toss you onto the bed like he often did when you were finally alone together.

Instead, he dropped your hand as you entered and crossed the room to open the window, a light breeze and quiet noise from the street below floating into the silence. He proceeded to take off his jacket and set his wallet on the table by the bed. Surprised, you watched as he plugged his phone into the charger and began loosening his tie. “I was thinking you’d like to visit the Tuileries Gardens tomorrow,” he said, laying his tie over the chair next to the bed. “Or we could go to the Jardin des Serres d'Auteuil, if you’d rather?” 

You slipped off your own coat and hung it on the hook by the bedroom door. “Um, sure, either sounds fine,” you replied, your words clipped and voice hollow. Gardens and greenhouses were not exactly what you thought you’d be talking about once you got back to the room. 

Tom sat on the edge of the bed with his back to you, taking off his dress shoes and setting them by the chair. “I think you’d like the greenhouses,” he continued without turning around. Had he looked at you, surely he would have realized that you didn’t give a french fuck about tomorrow’s itinerary. 

You strode into the bathroom, confused and annoyed, and shut the door, tapping your fingers on the marble counter as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You looked good - really sexy actually - and you could not figure out what Tom was playing at. The conference was over, you didn’t have to work anymore, you’d enjoyed a romantic dinner. And he couldn’t seem to be bothered to even so much as kiss you before chatting about tomorrow’s plans. You had half a mind to change into an old tshirt and pajama pants, throw your hair into a messy bun, and turn in for the night. But you didn’t buy a brand new lacy black bra and panties for nothing and you sure as hell weren’t going to be able to sleep with the arousal that was buzzing through you despite the current annoyance.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to give him another chance and you exited the bathroom. Tom was still in his dress pants and shirt, but he’d rolled the sleeves up and unbuttoned his collar. He was scrolling through his phone again. Maybe if you sent him a fucking text he’d get the message. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” you asked him flatly as you left the bedroom, headed for the minibar. 

“Fizzy water’d be great love,” he answered, without looking up. You rolled your eyes as you grabbed two sparkling waters from the fridge and returned to the room, hoping Tom would have set his phone down.  
\----------

Tom

As you returned to the bedroom Tom couldn’t help but take notice, the clip of your heels on the tiled floor catching his attention. Glancing up from his phone, he raked his gaze over your body, starting at your dainty, black, 4-inch-high, ankle strap heels that accentuated your toned calves. The knee length dress you wore clung to your curves and the color set off your skin, making you glow. The necklace he bought you sat perfectly just above your sexy cleavage, drawing attention to your collarbone and slender neck. Your pink lips were –

“Here,” you said abruptly, bottled water thrust into his view. He clumsily set his phone down and took the water, fumbling to open it.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, still caught up in how sexy you looked. He wanted to drop the bottle and pull you to him, let his hands roam all over your delicious curves and tangle into your hair while his lips explored your mouth, your neck, that delicate collarbone… Earlier at the restaurant, he’d wanted to take you, steal you away to some dark corner in the back and have his way with you. When you’d practically begged him to speak french, he’d seriously considered it. But public wasn’t exactly his style and he was fairly certain it wasn’t yours either.

Now in the privacy of the room, he wanted you badly, but last night’s rejection still stung. Plus he was seeing you in an entirely new light since watching you work. He was intimidated, in a very good way, but intimidated nonetheless. He’d always known you were intelligent and confident - a little out of his league, he’d thought. But now he knew without a doubt you were well out of his league. 

And at the moment you seemed perturbed, not as relaxed and flirtatious as you’d been at dinner. It wasn’t like him to be so thrown off by a woman, so unsure of how to proceed. He was used to being with women he could easily read. You were different - dynamic and mysterious and challenging. And damn if it didn’t make you even more attractive to him. Now he was consumed by want – he knew exactly what he wanted from you and with you and for you – and yet you had him second guessing. He twisted the cap on his water back and forth as he tried to figure out exactly what you wanted from him.  
\--------

You set your water on the side table without opening it and began taking your earrings out and placing them next to the bottle. Tom had blatantly checked you out, hadn’t he? And yet, he made no move toward you. In fact, he was silent, which for Tom was entirely out of character. He’d been unusually quiet at dinner too, now that you thought about it.

Unable to continue with whatever the hell was going on any longer, you turned toward him and set your hands on your hips. “Is something wrong?” you asked, your tone more exasperated than you had intended.

He looked at you with surprise, swallowing a gulp of water thickly. “What? No! ‘Course not!” he replied, fidgeting with the screw cap on his bottle.

“Then what’s with you?” you continued, dropping your hands to your sides.

He shifted from one foot to the other, a kind of boyish grin on his face, raising his eyebrows, the wrinkles on his forehead bunching together. “There’s nothing - really.” He set the bottle down and scrubbed his hand through his hair for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. You must have looked unconvinced. “Sweetheart, honestly, there’s nothing with me,” he repeated, immediately picking the bottle up and once again fidgeting with the screw cap.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “So right now, you really want to discuss tomorrow’s plans? That’s what you want do? Right now.”

He pinched his eyebrows together and a tense smile danced across his lips. “I dunno?” He half-laughed. “I guess not?”

His accent was thicker and he seemed nervous which had you baffled. What on earth did he have to be nervous about? Frustrated, you finally blurted loudly, “I thought tonight we’d… you know, I thought…” He stopped messing with his water and held you with a piercing gaze. The volume of your voice had surprised you as well and you folded your arms across your chest, avoiding his eyes as you explained, taking on quieter tone. “I was expecting something different when we got back to the hotel tonight. Not a discussion about what we might do tomorrow.”

Tom’s eyes widened as he picked up your meaning and he exhaled, stroking his beard absently. “Mm,” he grunted. “Right. I see.” He finally set down the damn water bottle and took a step toward you. “To be fair, love,” he began, “I wasn’t sure exactly what you wanted from me, considering how things went the last time I tried to…” He trailed off and your face fell, your gut sinking with guilt as you recalled your outburst from the night before. 

You knew you’d been severe and you’d thought dinner had been enough to show him you weren’t stressed anymore and were ready to focus all your attention on being with him. But he deserved more than a half-hearted apology and tipsy flirtation. “I’m really sorry, Tommy, seriously. I shouldn’t have acted like that – I know I can be temperamental when I’m working – I was so worried about today.” You hung your head. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time your lightning fast temper had hurt someone you loved. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh and now that the conference is over, I just want to be with you and I just- I’m so sorry.” 

Finding that you couldn’t face him, you turned around and took the few steps to the bathroom door, convinced your hopes for the evening were unrealistic at that point. Sighing, you propped yourself against the door frame with your hand and lifted your foot to begin unbuckling your ankle strap heel. 

Before you could, you felt Tom’s warm breath dance over the shell of your ear, his solid form barely pressing against you. “I find myself a bit intimidated by you,” he whispered. You heard the hint of a smile in his voice as a shiver ran up your spine. Gripping the doorframe, you tilted your head, exposing your neck to him and your eyes fluttered shut as he placed a sensual kiss on your smooth skin. Tommy intimidated by you? You would have laughed out loud if he hadn’t continued.

“But now that I know what you want to do,” he said, pressing his soft lips against your shoulder and sliding his finger along the strap of your dress. “I’ll tell you what I want to do.” His voice was low and deep and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips at his words. 

 

“ j'ai besoin de te sentir sous moi (I need to feel you under me),” he whispered, his beard brushing gently against you. You gasped quietly as his breath floated across your neck and heat pooled low in your belly. Inhaling deeply, you did everything you could to stay still, letting him slowly trail his fingers over the bare skin of your neck and shoulder, savoring the seduction. 

Tom kissed your neck again, and a moan escaped your lips. He pushed himself flush against you and you felt him through his pants, pressing into you. “je vais te faire l'amour très lentement (I’m going to make love to you very slowly),” he murmured. “ jusqu'à ce que tu me supplies de continuer (Until you beg for more).”

You wanted to ask him what he was saying, what it meant, but you couldn’t form words, you couldn’t even form a thought. Everything was focused on his touch, his lips, his body against yours, the light scent of his cologne and beard as it scraped along your sensitive skin, sending goosebumps prickling across every inch of you. He slipped a hand around your ribs, grazing just under your breasts, firmly pulling you back against him, while his other hand held tightly to your hip, his thumb massaging tiny circles around your hipbone. 

You were still gripping the doorframe as his advances became hungrier, kissing and sucking your neck in just the right spot. The hand on your hip trailed up your side and across your shoulder blades until you felt him tug slowly at your zipper, sliding it down your back. Your dress fell open just above the curve of your ass, exposing your heated skin to the cool breeze from the open window. “Tommy,” you moaned, his lips on your back, your shoulders, your neck, the curve of your ear. 

“ je n'arrêterai pas avant que tu cries mon nom ( I won’t stop until you’re screaming my name),” he practically growled, and you couldn’t take it anymore, the heat between your legs making it impossible to hold back any longer. 

Turning to face him, you breathed the words a friend had taught you – the only ones you’d need should a handsome man ever whisper French across your skin: “Prends-moi (Take me).”

You caught a devilish grin beneath his beard as his gaze dropped to your lips before he took them with his own, gripping you tightly as he kissed you. Slipping his hands underneath the fabric of your open dress, he pushed it off you shoulders, letting it slide to the floor at your feet, revealing your black bra and panties. Your heart pounded with anticipation as he looked you up and down, pulling his plump bottom lip between his teeth, base desire and lustful appreciation darkening his eyes even more. His hands mapped out your body and he effortlessly lifted you off your feet, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to the bed. 

He laid you down gently and you sank into the fluffy duvet. Biting your lip, you watched him loosen his belt, staring at you with that intense stare he did so well. He quickly removed the remainder of his clothes, the bed giving as he climbed on top of you. Your breath caught in your throat as he hovered over you, his hands on the bed on either side of your face. His tanned skin glowed in the dim light of the room, and your eyes took in the ink graffitied across his taut chest and thick arms. Tracing the line of his jaw with a finger, your other hand grabbed for his waist, pulling him closer to you.

 

His soft lips found the spot on your neck again and your hips bucked into him reflexively, a moan punctuating your movement as his hand found its way to your chest and he caressed you through your bra. He moved his mouth along your neck to your collarbone, slipping his hand behind you to unclasp your bra. You felt the muscles in his back ripple and contract beneath your fingers as the fabric fell loose from your body.

You nibbled his shoulder gently, pressing your fingers into his skin as you clambered to be as close to him as possible. “Mmm,” he groaned, rutting against you as his lips moved quickly over you, his hands reaching the places his mouth couldn’t get to just yet. Your lips found his neck, kissing and nibbling his salty-sweet skin as he slipped his hand beneath your panties. 

Your back arched at his touch and everything was fire and heat and need, your lips hungry on his neck, face buried in his beard as you slid a hand to the nape of his neck pulling him to you, devouring his plump lips. His hand moved agonizingly slow and you reached to push your panties down, eager for more. Tom hummed his approval and removed his hand to help your efforts along. Whining at the absence of his touch you kicked the lacy fabric to the floor, grateful it hadn’t caught on the heels you still wore. 

With nothing left between you now, you moved against him, electricity jolting through your body, making you gasp and grab for him, tugging at his hair and wrapping your legs around his waist, your stiletto heels digging into his ass. He grunted appreciatively, his hands still journeying over every curve and plane you offered him. Between his deep groans and throaty hmmms, he was still mumbling broken french against your skin.

“Tell me,” you barely whispered, a moan interrupting your words as he pressed himself between your thighs, teasing where you were most sensitive. “Tell me what you said.”

“Mmm,” he moaned, his lips leaving a heated trail across your skin. “How about I show you darling?” he whispered, before snapping his hips, thrusting deep into you without warning, making you cry out, cursing and gasping his name in pleasure, gripping him tightly as his body spoke a language you had no trouble understanding.


End file.
